Anne Shirley Cuthbert Novels & Stories

I was on vacation with my mother at our country vineyard when a message arrived from Ava, my husband's personal secretary. He was the new Don of the Falcone family. The photo showed a woman, bruised and naked, curled up on the floor of a cold cellar. It was followed by a voice message, her tone arrogant: "Helen, is this what you peasants do? Claw your way out of the mud just to leech off the Don?" "Don Lorenzo just acquired this estate, and you have the nerve to let your blind, ill-mannered mother wander in here to freeload? As the Don's personal secretary, it's my job to uphold the Falcone family's dignity." "This is the price for trespassing on the Don's estate!" I froze, my eyes lifting to the other side of the long table where my mother was sipping her red wine, perfectly safe. I zoomed in on the photo. The moment I saw the details, my heart seized. On a pale hand was a familiar ring. It was the heirloom the Falcone Madre never took off. I immediately dialed Ava's number. "Ava, are you insane? That's Lorenzo's mother!" A careless, almost flirtatious laugh came from the other end of the line. "The Don may consider you his property, but he never agreed to take in your dirt-poor family."

When my Prince shattered our Eternal Blood Vow for the ninety-ninth time, I dragged my drained, broken body to the Tribunal of Vows. "I am here to request the dissolution of my Eternal Blood Vow with the Prince of the Kindred." Ten minutes later, Damien stormed in with Isabella in tow. The Prince of the Kindred strode toward me, his hand shooting out to clamp around my neck before he slammed me against a cold marble pillar. "You'd go so far as to dissolve our vow just because you're jealous of Isabella's promotion? Has the bloodlust driven you completely insane?" My mother Eleanor's voice echoed icily through our bond. "Forging lab results to play the victim, all for his attention. You've always been so deceitful." Tears of blood welled in Isabella's eyes as she tugged on Damien's arm. "I'm so sorry, Seraphina. I never should have accepted this position. Please, stop putting yourself—and the Prince—through this!" I wiped away the tears of blood seeping from my eyes and faced the tribunal official once more. "I no longer have the protection of a clan. So that I may turn to ash in three days, please help me complete the dissolution ceremony."

To pay off my family's debt, I was forced to marry a comatose mafia heir. The city's elite were all waiting to see me become a young widow. On our wedding night, I used a damp towel to wipe down the still form on the bed. Suddenly, a lazy chuckle met my ear. "Enjoying the view?" I snapped my head up. A translucent man leaned casually against the nightstand, his long legs crossed, a smirk on his lips as he watched me with amusement. He nodded toward the "corpse" on the bed and raised an eyebrow. "Don't waste your energy. I can't feel the cold. How about we make a deal? You help me deal with the traitors in my family." I stared at his ghostly form, then calmly wrung out the towel into the basin. "Deal. But I want half the Volpe family fortune."

On the day we were supposed to get engaged, my fiancé, Marco, married the Don's daughter. My father was framed and thrown in jail. I needed five million dollars to get him out. Then Marco found me. "Be my mistress," he offered, "and I'll save your father." I smiled and turned to the man lurking in the shadows, a man known for his power, brutality, and his stone-cold heart. They said the king of the underworld never let a woman spend the night. But with me, he buried his head in my hair, his fingers tracing the curve of my waist. The floor-to-ceiling windows, the mahogany desk, and the ornate carved bed all became our battlegrounds. And there was one thing I forgot to tell Marco. The man I was with was Dante Landini, the cold-blooded Don of the Landini family, who was Marco's soon-to-be father-in-law.

I've stood before a priest and sworn my vows to the same man seven times. And for the seventh time, I've signed divorce papers in front of the family lawyer. At our first wedding, the youngest Capo of the Throne family held my hand and promised, "From this day forward, my life is yours and yours alone." But whenever his childhood sweetheart stirred up trouble and needed his protection, Carter's vow to me would conveniently become a sanctuary for her. "Tessa's in trouble again, Maeve. For your own safety, we have to get a divorce for now." The first time I was forced to divorce, I threatened him with the honor of our families' alliance, even vowing to expose his betrayal at a family gathering. His men dragged me out of the manor. The third time I signed the papers, I humbled myself, sneaking into the family's private club just to catch a glimpse of him from afar. By the sixth time, I had learned to quietly pack my few belongings in this house of lies, without putting up a fight. My breakdowns and desperate, undignified attempts to save us were only ever met with Carter's reliable promise to remarry me, just before another round of the divorce game he played for Tessa's sake. Until this time. After hearing Tessa was returning to New York from Italy, I didn't wait for Carter to speak. I placed the signed divorce papers in his study myself. Just like always, he casually set a date for our remarriage. But he didn't know that day was the day I would disappear from his world forever.

The Don of the Falcieri family was assassinated by a rival family, leaving behind his widowed wife, Livia. His younger brother, my husband Caius, took his place as Don. With the title came a duty: to secure the Falcieri bloodline by putting a child in his brother's widow. "Alessia's been barren for years. It falls to Livia to do what she couldn't. The Falcieri family cannot be without an heir." The Madre's voice dripped with scorn. Caius held me close, whispering promises. "As soon as Livia is pregnant, I swear I'll never touch her again." "Alessia, you're the only one I love." Three months, and he hasn't set foot in our bedroom. After he ignored me in front of everyone, choosing Livia time and time again, I finally left. I took what was mine and left one thing behind: a DNA test. It was my final gift to Caius.

After the engagement dinner, my grandmother was hauled down to the family's dungeons. The order was given by Serena, who handled the finances for my husband-to-be, Vincent, the heir to the Moretti family. Vincent himself led her down, refusing to hear a word of explanation. "The late Don's wife's diamond cross is missing. Your grandmother was the only guest not part of the family. If she didn't take it, who did?" Serena stood at the top of the stairs, her arrogant gaze sweeping over my face. It was laughable. Based on nothing but Serena's word, they could lock an old woman away. "She stays down there for every day the cross is missing. But that's one thing, our wedding is another. We're still on for next month." I glanced down at the diamond ring on my finger, engraved with the family crest. Exhaustion washed over me. This whole marriage felt meaningless.

Running from her mates, she had no choice. Thinking she would live, she got entangled in a more disastrous entity. Elena was mated to two of the greatest Alphas in the world. Both, young and elegant, she thought of a heavenly life for herself. Trying to escape from her past, Elena gets to fall into the hands of Zayn Almond, the Alpha of the Moon Violet Pack, one of the biggest packs in the city. He takes her in and then wants to shower her with a good life. But then, he discovers one thing. She was an Omega. And she was his mate. Wanting to have a pretty mate of high status, he found himself with a timid and poor girl. Then, he has to make her life miserable. But it never ended there. Mated to Ethan Harvey, a cousin of Zayn, she was trapped by two dangerous men. Her life begins with their torture and abuse, and they want to have her most cruelly, both a sex object and a slave of torture, dehumanizing her, instead of a Luna, she is a slave. Wanting to run away, she could not get away from the prying eyes of these men's subjects. Only one option was left, she needed to kill herself. But then, she could not die on her terms. She didn't have the right to die. They controlled her, with their mystical, powerful, and magical aura, and she could only die if they consented to it. Noticing her miserable life, they sought to make it more miserable.

On her birthday and mating ceremony, Shirley's life takes a tragic turn when her parents and fellow pack members fall victim to a merciless attack by unknown assailants. Captured and sold in a clandestine dark auction, she becomes the property of the formidable Alpha, Adolphus Quin. At first, Adolphus sees her as nothing more than a submissive slave, but as the nights pass, an unexpected transformation takes place within him. His icy demeanor begins to thaw, and he discovers an inexplicable weakness for Shirley, an emotion he thought himself incapable of and undeniably his paradox. How deep has Shirley dug into Adolphus's heart and how far has Adolphus fallen for Shirley?

"I’m straight, Thorne. I like women." "Good. Because you’re definitely not my type." As the captain of the city’s most brutal pro-hockey team, Jaxson Thorne rules the rink with iron fists. He doesn't do PR stunts, and he definitely doesn't do men. But when a massive bar brawl threatens his captaincy, management hands him a devastating ultimatum: fake-date the new figure skating coach to clean up his image, or lose his contract. Liam Vance is desperate. When his Olympic funding is cut, his dreams shatter. The contract to pretend to be deeply, madly in love with a thuggish hockey player is his last financial lifeline. The catch? They have to move into Jaxson’s luxury penthouse to keep up the charade for the paparazzi. Both men are fiercely, stubbornly straight. Behind closed doors, it’s a war of flying insults and strict boundaries. But when the cameras flash, forced proximity starts to blur the lines. A casual touch sparks an agonizing heat. A fake kiss leaves them breathless. Suddenly, the most terrifying game isn't on the ice—it's the realization that the man they are supposed to be pretending to love is the only one they can no longer live without.